


Eyes Wide Open

by cordeliadelayne



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Drunken Confessions, Getting Together, Kissing, M/M, Natasha Is Always Right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-22 01:32:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9575948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cordeliadelayne/pseuds/cordeliadelayne
Summary: Coulson should know better than to drink on an empty stomach.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TigerKat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TigerKat/gifts).



> Written for Tigerkat's 2016 fandom stocking.

Coulson should know better than to drink on an empty stomach. He did know better. It was just _Clint._ It was always just Clint. Stupidly brave, incredibly too hot for him Clint. He'd come here to drink all thoughts of Clint away, but the bartender had an arrow tattoo on his left arm, so of course that had just reminded him of Clint. If he wasn't in public he'd have hit his head against the bar and left it there.

The bar went silent, the sort of assessing silence that meant that a beautiful woman had just walked in. It was a deadly sort of silence too, so Coulson wasn't surprised when Natasha sat on the bar stool next to him and ordered a more expensive bottle of vodka than the one he'd been drinking.

“Have you been compromised?” she asked.

Coulson waited for the bartender to move away before he looked at her. Her hair was pinned up in some ridiculously complicated looking fashion, probably to hide a few knives, and she was wearing a green dress that left nothing to the imagination, and which was probably also hiding a few knives.

“Hot date?” he asked.

Natasha looked at him for a long moment. “No more drink for you,” she said, moving his glass away.

Coulson absolutely did not pout in response.

“What happened?”

“You already know what happened,” Coulson said. Because she did. She'd been there after all, as Coulson made it obvious to everyone just how he felt about Clint just by the way he'd reached for him after the Avenger's last mission. It had been completely instinctive, wanting to touch Clint after his fall from the window and make sure he was okay, but there had been something on his face, some expression that had made Clint's eyes widen and god knows what Stark and Captain Rogers had made of it.

This time he did lay his head on the bar.

“How long has it been?” Natasha asked.

“2,192 days,” Coulson replied, knowing exactly what she was asking. Normally it would be quite gratifying to stun Natasha into silence, but not today.

“Why the hell did you never say anything?”

Coulson wondered if he asked really nicely if the ground would open up and swallow him whole.

“Phil? Why didn't you say anything?” Clint asked again, moving closer to the bar. “Phil?” Clint's fingers pressing into his shoulder made him sit up, even though he really didn't want to.

“What would be the point?”

Clint looked confused and then looked over at Natasha.

“I told you,” she said.

Now it was Coulson's turn to be confused. “What do you...”

Coulson's question was cut off as Clint leaned forward and kissed him, putting his hand on the back of Coulson's neck and preventing him from moving away, if he'd been mad enough to do such a thing. As it was he returned the kiss, on the grounds that this was probably all a drunken hallucination and he wasn't likely to get the chance again.

“And my work here is done,” Natasha said, sounding very pleased with herself.

Clint moved back a little and grinned at her, before turning a softer look on Coulson.

“Please tell me you're not so drunk you'll forget all about this in the morning?”

“I'm apparently drunk enough to be hallucinating,” Coulson replied.

Clint frowned and Natasha pulled Coulson up by the jacket and dragged him over to the corner of the bar.

“Don't make me hurt you,” she said. “You're not dreaming, this is real. And if you'd stopped pining for five minutes you'd have realised that Clint has been mad about you since the day you met.”

“He – what?”

Natasha took a deep breath. “Pull it together, Phil.” She pushed Coulson back in the direction of Clint, who was by now nursing an orange juice and looking a little more uncertain than when he'd first come in.

“I haven't handled this very well, have I?” Coulson asked. He moved closer to Clint, but just out of arm's reach.

Clint shrugged. “I don't know, finding the usually unflappable Phil Coulson is just as much of a mess as the rest of us, isn't a bad way to end the day.”

Coulson snorted and as Clint came closer he pulled him into a soft kiss. “How about we start this evening over?”

“I've got a better idea,” Natasha said. “Cab to the Tower?”

Coulson hesitated.

“May as well get Stark's teasing out of the way now,” Clint reasoned, looking hopeful.

“There will never be an end to it,” Coulson pointed out, but he didn't object as Clint moved them towards the cab Natasha had found for them. Because now the idea of getting Clint alone in his room, even if it was in a room in a building owned by Tony Stark, was suddenly the only thing he could think about.

Judging by the way Clint could barely keep his hands off of him, he was feeling much the same way.

Natasha just ignored them. Though not before taking plenty of photographs; there was no way Fury would believe her otherwise.  



End file.
